The Chronicles of Arma: Chapter 1 - Kindred Spirits
The galaxy known commercially as "Arma" was an organized group of star systems formed into a central government; the Core, named after being housed in the center of the galaxy. Those that reside outside of the Core, be it by choice or by the Core's decision, are known as races of the Reach. For many years, the alien races of the galaxy were aware of humanity's existance and some prophesized that humanity would rise to great importance within the Core government. Thus the Humanization Laws were put into effect, well before humanity discovered life beyond their own homeworld. Human culture was taught in academies and schools throughout different worlds and the English language became the galactic standard way of communication. This was done in order to make life easier for humans to acclimate into the central galactic government. When humans and Xenoforms began to mingle, life changed drastically for all of humanity. Technology raced centuries ahead of its time, colonies were installed for human settlements on vibrant new worlds, and humans began personal relationships with Xenoformic life and, thanks to their adaptive gene-pool, many other humanoid races were able to breed and successfully have children with them sharing traits of both species. But throughout its years on Earth, humanity has been plagued by the threat of a monstrous race known as Daemons who invaded through portals known as Hellgates from another dimension known as Hell. Religions throughout the centuries have tried to explain the existance of Daemons, some claiming them as a dark threat sent from an evil god, others saying that it was God's punishment to humanity for its sins. The true nature of the Daemons is unknown. But for centuries have humans waged war with them in defense of their planet. Humanity's weapon against the monstrous hordes were the Hell-Hunters, elite super-soldiers injected with Daemonic essence giving them enhanced senses and abilities while permanently whitening their hair and turning their eyes a slitted, sea blue. The Hell-Hunters have waged crusade after crusade against the Daemons over the years, each time they managed to slay a high-ranking Overlord another would take its place. After a century-long war against the Daemonic hordes lead by the Devil known as Haedras, humanity has enjoyed a hard-won peace with only a few small skirmishes throughout small civilizations on their planet. The year was now 2347 A.D. in human years, the Galactic Stardate being 12.27.26, and a Hell-Hunter was about to depart on a special mission. No H The UDA Naval Officer stepped out of the forward hatch into the passenger station of the U.S.S. Ardent to call upon a noteworthy military asset sitting in the wrong station. Tapping away at his NaviPad, he eyed it carefully before calling out to the rows of seated passengers, both military and civilian "I'm looking for a Mr... Shadow Yatsumaru?" A young man called from the middle row of seats "It's Sadow. There's no H in the name." Standing up and collecting his duffelbags was an imposingly tall Hell-Hunter adorned in a black Trenchcoat with red lining and a grey shirt beneath with black cargo pants and combat boots. His short hair was as white as snow and his eyes were blue and cat-like, a testament to the Daemonic DNA flowing in his veins. He exited the rows of seats, excusing himself from the others as he climbed past them, and stood before the Officer with his dogtags hanging on his chest. "What is it?" he asked with a hint of annoyance. The Officer nervously replied "You seem to be seated in the wrong station, sir. I am to guide you to the proper one." Sadow blinked tiredly, wanting to already be back home. This was his first time off-world and he was nervous enough as it was without this tunic-wearing idiot telling him he's in the wrong station. "Whatever. On with it then." He followed the man through the doors to a nearby station where a special seat would be waiting for him. ---- At the front of the passenger station sat a man with dark green, almost black, hair. He wore a pitch-black trenchcoat that he kept tightly wrapped around himself, hiding his black priest robes, the traditional attire of the Apostles, made out of the latest in bullet and slash proof materials. The man cast a glance at the white haired one, Sadow, if he had heard correctly. His right eye, normally grey like his left, glowing gold briefly, revealing for but a moment that it was fake. If one could hear, there was a soft whirring as the mechanical optic recorded a snapshot of the unmistakable Hell-Hunter, a snapshot that would be uploaded directly to headquarters in Rome, at least while his eye was able to maintain a wifi connection. So, they have a hand in this. the man thought with disdain. As an Apostle, he was obligated to aid the Hell-Hunters in an emergency, and that aid was reciprocated, but neither organization had any interest in the other, except in so far as what they could do for their own cause. Leaning back in his seat, he pulled out his phone, and opened up a message. In a matter of moments, his superiors had already sent back a reply concerning the image. The modern advancements of the day allowed someone all the way back at HQ to simply talk and the words appeared, an improvement over the old means of speaking your entire text before it was sent. Shade, use caution. As you know, the Hunters wouldn’t send a man without due reason. There might be reason to suspect an attack. Use your head and make sure you protect the innocent. If those things show up, terminate them, but don’t make a scene like you did in London a few months ago. Remember, you represent not only the Holy See, but all men and women in your station. GDBWYE The man, Shade as he was known to all but his closest confidants, couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath. He really likes to remind me of my failures. Ah well. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how this plays out. he thought with a grin. ---- Staring out a viewing window of the Ardent, there was a beautiful and stalwart woman. Luxuriously rich locks of obsidian hue framed her strong cheekboned visage, retaining a fair complexion with lips glossed in the same texture of her hair. Bound in a ponytail that angled up and draped a foot away from her long leather coat, one could make out the high-collared individual with a badge marked as "P.I.E." for the Psychic Interstellar Elites she was a part of. Thigh high boots had dark blue slacks tucked into the recesses, matched with a belt and light flak jacket with exterior pockets along with a single knife tucked in a hidden spot along her posterior side of the sash. Piercing onyx eyes stared outward with seeming no expression while she remained in an upright meditative trance as her arms were crossed over her comfortably sized chest. Her name is Diana Shepard and she felt tired. It wasn't a physically taxing notion to board the Ardent seeing as she was already an agent within the UDA through connection as a member of PIE. Her dark gloved hands twitched idly as she impatiently kept her stare on the swirl of colors that made up their streak across space. Just moving into a ship like this for an assigned Top Secret mission was hard for her to accept without any backing summary. All that was said was to back up the Hell Hunters and anyone helping in the course of said mission. "Figures the higher-ups would send me in nearly blind due to voiding intel," Diana thought as her gaze continued to stare impassively out, momentarily taking in the sight of the white haired man through the glass' reflection. Thinking nothing of the large and imposing statured man she continued to look out, coldly ignoring the rest of those who had gathered in the Passenger Station. She just hoped that her time would be quick and efficient, not a waste time like other missions assigned to her. ----